


The Gods Of The Cydondria

by isxbella



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Multi, tenjack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:21:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23836834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isxbella/pseuds/isxbella
Summary: Recycled Planet Eight is, according to the Doctor, beautiful in the spring. It’s a shame they got arrested before they had a chance to see it.
Relationships: Martha Jones/Mickey Smith, Tenth Doctor/Jack Harkness
Comments: 1
Kudos: 22





	The Gods Of The Cydondria

Jack liked to watch the Doctor in moments like these. The exhilarated flush still on his cheeks, his eyes sparkling with a sense of victory. Bent over the TARDIS controls, his mouth running a million miles an hour- unaware that his words were only heard, not understood.

The Doctor liked to watch Jack too, watch as he regained his breath and the corners of his mouth twitched unintentionally into a grin- no doubt thinking about something pornographic.

“Oh, stop it, you two,”Martha complained, rolling her eyes and leaning on the console next to Mickey. “You’re so head over heels for each other that it’s painful to watch! Honest!”

The Doctor bit his tongue and ducked his head, not denying Martha’s accusations. Behind him, Jack spoke in his fifty-first century drawl. “You don’t have to watch. In fact, if you weren’t watching-“

“Whoah, whoah,”Mickey interjected. “Remember that we discussed the difference between being cute and over-sharing?”

“I am being cute, look at me,”Jack teased, raising a flirtatious eyebrow.

“Gentlemen!”the Doctor exclaimed, and then turned to Martha with a grin she couldn’t help but reciprocate. “Lady. How does everyone feel about checking out Recycled Planet Eight? I hear it’s lovely during the spring.”

Jack scrunched his nose, moving closer to the Doctor. “Not exactly exotic and mysterious is it? Just a dead planet remade for a species desperate enough.”

“I think recycled planets are beautiful,”Martha said, causing Jack to snort. “They’re basically second chance planets, aren’t they?”

“Martha Jones, you never fail to see the good in anything!”the Doctor said with a grin, beginning to fiddle with the controls. Jack moved to the other side of the console to aid him.

“What year do you need?”

“Ah, the 2600s should do it,”the Doctor replied, running from control to control like a maniac before pausing to dramatically pull on the final lever. “Allons-y!”

The Doctor hadn’t removed his hand from the lever before there was a sharp knocking noise on the TARDIS door.

“I’ll get that,”the Doctor said, before offering his arm to Jack. The pair went to open the door, Martha and Mickey closely behind.

“Under the order of Emperor Xai’varr, all arrivals on Apocalypse Day present a threat to the Cydondria and must be detained for extraction.”

“What?”the Doctor almost choked. “Apocalypse Day?”

Surrounding the TARDIS were a squadron of humanoid men dressed in togas and leather armour aiming rifles at the Doctor and his companions. Their leader had no rifle but had a fierce scar across his weathered face and a shock of brick red hair.

“You’re a cydondrion?”the Doctor asked their leader, knowing the answer. The cogs were whirring in his head as he tried to figure where he’d gone wrong. “Jack- what date did you pick?”

Jack raised his hands into surrender as one of the soldiers aggressively angled his rifle, encouraging the Doctor to follow suit. “Uh, fourteenth of May 2062? You said their spring was, and I quote, ‘lovely’.”

The Doctor scanned his head for answers, but came up with nothing- so he turned back to the leader of the group of cyndondria. “What‘s extraction?”

The cydondrion guard raised an eyebrow. “Emperor Xai’varr, may he reign evermore, has developed a highly sophisticated process by which the cydondria can extract the “essence” of a person- memories, personality, everything. The flesh carcasses are then repurposed as sandbags or sold to be made into flesh products like coats.”

“Sandbags? Or coats?”Martha interjected. “We didn’t mean to arrive on your special day. We can just be going-“

“I’m sorry, I can answer your questions but I cannot allow you to leave. Soldiers, guide them to the holding cells until our Emperor, holy of the holiest, is finished with the last batch of travellers.”

Jack resisted as a guard pressed a rifle into the small of his back to make him walk forwards. “Doctor-“

A flash of understanding passed between the two men, and Jack let himself be guided with resignation.

“You’re a good cydondrion soldier, then, very loyal to your Emperor,”the Doctor remarked casually for someone who was being taken to a cell at gunpoint.

Their redheaded arrester led them round a corner. Wherever they were was very grand- or at least it had once been, before centuries of bad care and cobwebs took claim to it. The redhead took his time before replying.

“Graduated top of my class with honours. The only subject I failed to attain full marks in was the Study of the Gods.”

“You’re a religious species now, then? You weren’t in the year 1244, but I guess things change.”

Their captor looked him up and down with an air of half-amusement and half-confusion. “Yes, we’re just about to come out to the Garden.”

They were roughly pushed through a doorway into a large, open space. The focal point of the Garden, as the redhead had called it, was two bronze statues. One of them was kneeling down and protecting himself with a shield, while the other stood behind with his hair and coat caught in an imaginary gale. Both their eyes shone, despite being only made of bronze.

“Oh,”Mickey said, even his head connecting the dots as they stared at the supposed gods.

“These are our gods. They appeared in our greatest time of need to to aid the cydondria and we have honoured them ever since. They foretold of today- of change and blood and visitors that would change everything. My mother always told me that they would return, if our people needed them enough,”the redhead spoke, voice full of respect. “As she died of the blue fever, she turned her head to the stars and told the gods she would see them soon.”

“What’s the blue fever?”Jack asked, still unable to process the situation.

The redhead's guard began to whisper, and he silenced them with an angry glare before replying. “A category five disease.”

“How many diseases are there?” It was the Doctor who spoke.

The redhead coated his throat. “We- the cydondria- are, as a people, plagued by disease due to the climate of our planet. Emperor Xai’varr- may he have a glorious reign- has been most key in coming up with cures most recently, but blue fever- as a category five disease- still has no known cure.”

“Is Emperor Xai’varr a doctor then?”Martha asked curiously.

“No,”the redhead responded after a pause. “But during his reign, our beloved Emperor has suffered greatly as a leader of a poor, plagued people but has also shown himself a good leader through his development of new cures to the new diseases.”

“Elf’ik!”a voice called, and they turned to see a passing squadron in perfect formation. Their stern-looking leader gave the redhead- Elf’ik- a look of disdain.

Elf’ik nodded respectfully at her, and she all but rolled her eyes. “Have you quite lost your mind, Elf’ik? The prisoners may plead for forgiveness at the statues, but must be taken to the cells promptly so as not to contaminate them and their holiness.”

“Our apologies,”Mickey said, with an air of sarcasm. He bowed mockingly at the statues, earning himself a look of disgust from the severe cydondria.

The other three followed suit, and- exchanging another nod with the other squadron leader- Elf’ik led them past the statues to a series of descending steps hidden by shrubbery. Beneath the steps was a corridor of cells, and their stench overwhelmed your senses almost immediately.

“You are the only occupants at this time,”Elf’ik acknowledged. “We’ll be back for you when Emperor Xai’varr, all bless him, is finished with his current business.”

With those parting remarks, they were pushed into a large holding cell and left there, after the door had- of course- been locked dramatically by one of Elf’ik’s squadron.

As soon as they were out of ear shot, Mickey turned accusingly on the Doctor and Jack. “You’ve caused trouble here before!”

Jack snapped back with matching hostility, “I’ve never been here before, and I definitely have done nothing to deserve this status as a god!”

The two men stared each other down. Martha sighed, turning to the Doctor. “It’s a dictatorship.”

“Yes,”the time-lord agreed. “A dictator ruling over a diseased planet, his dynasty supposedly built on me and Jack. Which must happen in the future, because- even with our timelines-“

Jack touched the Doctor’s arm, jerking him out of his rant. “We’ll live, and we’ll fix whatever is going on here. We always do.”

The love in Jack’s tone brought a smile to the Doctor’s lips before he could realise what he was doing. He leaned down to kiss the other man on the cheek, but Jack moved his head so their lips connected in a chaste kiss instead.

Mickey screwed up his nose. “I suppose, if we’re to be extracted, or whatever they call it-“

Martha’s jaw dropped, appalled by her husband. “Mickey Smith! Even if we were going to die, and we’re not, it would hardly be appropriate to have sex in a prison cell with company!”

“Loosen up, Martha, I’d say it’s plenty appropriate,”Jack teased, his grin not faltering. “In fact-“

The Doctor cut him off with a kiss that Jack wasted no time deepening, his fingers tangling themselves in the time-lord’s unruly hair while his tongue explored his mouth.

“Jack, no,”the Doctor whispered, breaking the kiss gently and resting his forehead against Jack’s. The immortal rolled his eyes cheekily but dropped the topic of sex at his boyfriend’s request.

The Doctor pulled his sonic screwdriver from his overcoat pocket and scanned the cell. It was a generous size, but smelt musty and was covered in an exotic purple moss.

“So? Can you bust us out?”Mickey asked, as the Doctor read the scan on his sonic.

“It’s not all about busting out, Mickey,”the Doctor replied casually, Jack leaning over his shoulder to read the sonic’s display.

“We’re going to stay and let them kill us?”Mickey practically exploded, causing Martha to put a calming hand on his shoulder.

“No,”she corrected him, meeting the Doctor’s gaze. “We’re going to save this planet from whatever’s going on, and come out in one piece.”

“Exactly,”the Doctor agreed, a touch of sincerity in his tone calming Mickey’s anxiety. “All we need is a plan.”

“Handsome, plans are kind of your job,”Jack remarked, slinging a possessive arm over the time-lord’s shoulders and causing him to crinkle his nose in submissive annoyance- but not shake it off.

“I’ve got one in my head somewhere,”he mumbled, ducking his head instinctively towards Jack. Jack raised his free hand to ruffle his boyfriend’s hair, surprised but encouraged when the Doctor didn’t snap at him to stop.

Mickey sighed, earning him a dirty look from Martha as they watched the Doctor and Jack’s little exchange, unable to give them privacy while confined in a cell. The indiscernible hours went on in a similar fashion: Mickey and Martha against the far wall making occasional comments with their hands entwined, while Jack and the Doctor slumped on the floor in their embrace, Jack’s fingers still carefully ruffling the time-lord’s hair- comforting them both.

However, their silence was only a facade for Martha and Mickey. The Doctor’s fingers, pressed to Jack's head, allowed the two to communicate in the way of the time-lords, using their telepathic forcefields to share flickers of emotion and silent trails of thought. Both sought to comfort the other, and to find a plan in the whirlpool of their own head- or their partner’s.

Whirlpool, the Doctor had decided during his fifth regeneration, was the only word for it. And Jack’s head was even more of a whirlpool- everything rotating in a mass of crossing timelines around a central point, the fact that Jack himself was a fixed point in time and space- someone who the uniserve could never, would never, let die. No matter what.

The universe itself would end, one day. As much as he loved the universe, the Doctor had to accept that one day- a long time in the future- there would be nothing of it left. But there would still be Jack.

There would always be Jack. The fifty-first century human, the walking innuendo, the ex-con man. The central point of all time and space.

A gentle mental probe from Jack interrupted the Doctor’s stream of thoughts and he mentally rolled at his eyes at the interruption. If Jack had only let him finish, he’d have heard all the nice stuff too.

Like the fact the Doctor was over nine hindered years old, but had never met anyone who kissed better than Jack Harkness.

Jack didn’t need the ego boost, the Doctor knew, but when he felt the surge of affection from Jack, he was glad he’d given it.

And in return, Jack shared what he felt for the time-lord. Millions and millions of images flashed through the Doctor’s head- Jack and the Doctor, engrossed in an elaborate dance throughout time and space.

The dance would never end, could never end- and the Doctor wasn’t scared of that anymore.

The door to the cell opened and reality hit the men like a brick. Eternity could wait, the cydondria could not.

Elf’ik bowed his head at them as they rushed to the cell door, Jack receiving an unpleasant head rush after hours on the floor with the Doctor.

“Emperor Xai’varr, may he save our souls, will see you now.”

His squadron marched Martha, Mickey, Jack and the Doctor back up the stairs and through the overgrown courtyard with the heroic statues. They seemed to travel through endless rooms that had fallen victim to decay and disrepair. Elf’ik and his soldiers escorted them with stony-faced gloominess, ignoring the Doctor’s persistent questions.

Elf’ik spike again when they came to a halt outside a set of double doors. “You will respect Emperor Xai’varr, may his dynasty never be forgotten. He will oversee your extraction, you may say your goodbyes before we enter.”

“This,”Jack hissed to the Doctor, “is why you let me bring guns on our expeditions.”

“Bigger guns than the Compact Laser Deluxe up your behind?”the Doctor hissed back, his mind whirling- one hand in his pocket fiddling with his sonic screwdriver.

“Doctor?”Martha interrupted, the fire in her eyes dimming. “Please tell us you have a plan.”

The Doctor looked from her pleading expression to Mickey’s resigned look of sorrow, and realised how much more they feared losing their memories, their very selves, than losing their lives.

He leaned forward and pulled them both into a hug, his expression not giving anything away. When their heads became close enough, he whispered, “Trust me.”

Then he turned and, with the hand that wasn’t fiddling helplessly with his sonic, took Jack’s hand.

“No farewell kiss?”Jack teased, and the Doctor rolled his eyes before bringing his lips to Jack’s and letting the world around him slow.

Elf’ik coughed. “We will now see Emperor Xai’varr.”

As if on cue, the doors burst open outwards and a fanfare began playing. The Doctor roughly pulled away from Jack, their hands still connected, and the cydondria squadron stood to attention.

At prompting from Elf’ik, they walked down a red carpet and through a room just as regal as the others- but far more well-kept. At the end of the carpet sat a blonde on a throne decorated with ornate roses. To his left, a company of cydondria in lab coats busied themselves with machinery.

The squadron dropped to the floor to kneel, with the Doctor and his companions following suit. And the emperor laughed.

Emperor Xai’varr was barely a man- a child-like figure with a mass of blonde curls upon which balanced a crown embellished with three rubies bigger than his fists. The cydondrion had blue eyes which were cold and unforgiving, and his smile was wicked rather than cheeky.

“Elf’ik, tell me of these intruders,”the boy-emperor demanded, his voice reedy and unbecoming.

Elf’ik stood, but bent his knees so as to remain a lower height than the emperor. “They arrived in a blue box out of thin air, Holy Emperor. They claim to be unaware of the important of today and the predictions of our gods-“

“I have heard enough,”Xai’varr complained with a yawn. “Prepare for extraction. The boring ones first. I have planets to conquer.”

He pointed at Mickey and Martha in concern to his statement about “boring ones”. With his crown lopsided as he tilted his head, he looked even more like a petulant child.

Part of the squadron seized Martha and Mickey, who struggled against their grips. Mickey’s fists were held down by guards while Martha knocked unconscious one soldier before being apprehended by three others. Jack twitched to help them, but the Doctor stopped him by squeezing his hand.

Then he rose. “What planets do you plan to conquer?”

Jack looked from the time-lord to his protesting friends and tried to figure out where the Doctor was going with this. Yes, universe domination should always be avoided- but surely that could be dealt with later?

Almost immediately, Elf’ik lunged to push the Doctor back down into a kneeling position. He turned hastily to Emperor Xai’varr to apologise, but was silenced with a hand and a look of amusement.

“You are a funny creature, for it is none of your concern how I intend to cheat the apocalypse- especially you will not remember,”Xai’varr stated sullenly.

“It is our concern!”Jack had risen too, voice filled with fury, and then turned to where Martha and Mickey were being forced into laboratory chairs and gagged- and said the first thing that spring to mind. “Stop the extraction.”

“On whose authority?”the cydondrion gagging Mickey retorted, but he halted nonetheless- scared by the anger behind Jack’s blue eyes.

“Your god’s.”

There was a moment we’re everything stilled, and Jack bit his tongue- hoping against hope he’d made the right move.

“Unhand them.” It was Elf’ik who spoke. His soldiers threatened the cydondria responsible for extraction with their rifles until they obeyed his command and released Martha and Mickey, who quickly made their way to stand behind Jack and the Doctor.

“Do not unhand them, fools! I am your leader, and I say proceed with the extraction!”an enraged Xai’varr yelled back, the dwarfish boy standing on his throne. The cydondria looked amongst each other with worried eyes.

Elf’ik was the first to move, unhinging his previously sheathed rifle from his belt and pointing it at Xai’varr. “A god has spoken, Emperor. The only fool is you.”

“You will pay for your treachery,”Xai’varr hissed threateningly. “I will call reinforcements-“

“You will do no such thing, Your Majesty,”the Doctor said, a childish grin beginning to form on his face. “The dictator is overthrown. Don’t you see? There will be no more disease, no more extraction. We’re the legend, we’re the saviours, we’re the bloody statues.”

As he talked, he strode forward towards Xai’varr. “We’re Jack and the Doctor. Hello.”

The Doctor waved right in Xai’varr’s face, causing the young monarch to swat his hand away with bared teeth.

“Surrender,”Jack warned, stepping up next to the Doctor- newly armed with a cyndondrion rifle. “Unlike him, I don’t give more than one chance.”


End file.
